


Don't you know you stop the room?

by wwwinteriscoming



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Watching hockey talking hockey playing hockey, and being dumb, bisexual boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwwinteriscoming/pseuds/wwwinteriscoming
Summary: “I’m not mad, because you like Tater. I’m just.. Jealous. Because I’m strong, too. Hell, I could pick up Parse one handed, too, definitely if he came after Chowder.. And, like, I get that I’m not.. I’m not a fabulous NHL player and whatnot, but like.. If you crush on Gabe Landeskog of all people, why not crush on your very own, watered down, easily accessible Adam Birkholtz?”





	

When Justin’s fourteen, he notices that his hands get just as clammy with sweat when Tom smiles at him as when Eliza does. Eliza’s the first to take his hand and give him half of her break snack though. When Eliza kisses him, a dry, chaste peck at her locker, his heart beats wildly in his chest. She’s sweet and he likes her brown curls, because they shine gold in the sun. She’s not into sports though and he’s not into theatre, so they part amicably rather soon. She gives him a lingering, less dry kiss on the cheek when they do. Justin notes shocked that she’s crying and wonders if he should be more upset about it. Ife laughs at him when he tells her later that night, but when he turns to Dami, she hugs him tight. She tells him it’s okay to be upset about their parting ways, but it’s just as okay not to be. There’ll be plenty of people who’ll love him and plenty of them will spark his heart in the way Eliza had and perhaps the sparks will lead to a full blown fire one day. She ruffles his hair and pinches one of his cheeks just when he’s about to tell her he likes his older sister best, so he keeps his mouth shut.

When he’s seventeen, he has classes with Tom again and something heavier, brighter warms in his abdomen when he smiles at him now. The smiles are less sweet than they used to be, but they cause a tingling across Justin’s arms. His answering ones are less shy and his hands less clammy, until Tom asks him to go for a coffee. He’s furiously wiping his hand when Tom walks in and he’s surprised by how it kind of knocks the breath out of him. He’s beautiful, he thinks, and his smile almost blinding. He reaches for his hands when they join the queue and it’s wonderful from there. The sparks don’t ignite into a bigger fire, because they aren’t applying to go to college in the same country and international long distance relationships aren’t what either of them are looking for. Ransom cries about it this time though and so does Tom. He kisses Justin hard enough to chase out all the “what if”s and he chooses Samwell, because he wants to. Because he can play hockey there. Because their pre med program is far above average.

When he arrives on the ice at Samwell for his first practice, Justin becomes Ransom. They introduce him to his d-man partner and butterflies wreck havoc on all his insides, even though he’s a pre med student and he knows that’s technically not possible. Adam Birkholtz and his 6’4” impressively muscled frame has piercing blue eyes and a dumb hair cut with endearing blond curls and he feels like coming home.

Things aren’t helped when he shoves his glasses on after practice and the curls dry tangled in them and the blue of his eyes looks warmer and darker when it’s not surrounded by white ice. Justin is a logical person, but he finds that the two of them together defy most of that logic. He’s suddenly capable of things he hadn’t thought himself capable of. When his brain short circuits from overloads of stress and information, Holster murmurs softly into his ear and the fire in his heart burns the worst of it away. He knows his lungs function just fine, he had his medical check before being cleared for the team, and he knows they only need oxygen to function. But when he feels like that, Holster seems to be the only truly essential for him to be able to breathe.

He’s being sappy, Ransom knows that, but he’s currently laying in Holster’s arms and the now buzzed short blond hair is being distractingly soft against his jaw line and Holster’s lips are almost touching his shoulder. It’s dark and he’s had a bitch of a crush on his best friend for a long time and he feels kind of stupid for it.

Because he thinks that what he feels in his heart when he straightens Holster’s glasses and his answering, thankful smile makes his heart stop and the fire roar, might be what Dami was talking about all those years ago, but it’s of no use, because as far as his Knowledge of Adam Birkholtz goes, he’s straight as a ruler. And his Knowledge is pretty extensive, because it’s his favourite subject. 

He’s still a little brother, so the day Holster distractedly kisses his cheek, before jogging of to class, he calls Dami. Who immediately says it’s a good thing he didn’t try Ife, because she isn’t to be trusted about love at the moment. Ransom both really wants to and really doesn’t want to know, so he just starts talking. He doesn’t repeat her fire metaphor, because it’s more than a little embarrassing that he even remembered, he mostly whines about how much he loves his best friend more than he’s loved back.

Dami’s quiet for a long time, before she says “I don’t think Holster’s straight.” That kind of throws Ransom for a loop, so he’s still at that, when she speaks again. “Oh, honey.. C’mon, when he’s over here.. The things you do together.. Not exactly straight behaviour?” When Ransom stays silent for longer than apparently pleases her, she sighs. 

“I can hear the gears turning in your head and I can almost see the smoke coming out of your ears, so I’ll lend you a hand.” Ransom murmurs a thank you, before Dami clears her throat.

“He came inside with his hand at the small of your back. I know you’re best friends, but, like, do the other best bros on that team of yours go around guiding each other like that?” Ransom warms all over for a second, recalling Holster’s (huge) hand on his back, before he thinks about it seriously. 

“Dex guides Nursey around.. Though that might just be a safety precaution? That boy might break his own bones just getting to Faber otherwise,” Ransom answers.

“I.. I.. Are those two not dating? It’s the other d-man pair, right?” Dami sounds genuinely confused and it’s confusing Ransom.

“No.. Should they be?”

“Yes,” Exasperatedly rushed out in an exhale. Ransom can see her raking her hands through her hair and getting them stuck somewhere. The little grunt a second later confirms his suspicions.

“Okay, I don’t have the patience to play match maker for everybody on that team of yours. Maybe after we’ve handled your situation..” Ransom snorts. Dami will, in fact, move on to a next love project, because as hopeless as she said Ife is, she herself refuses to make time in her busy schedule for a love life, so she lives vicariously through her brother’s. 

“Your thighs were touching and your ankles were hooked during. Every. Meal.” Ransom’s about to say he’s pretty sure Ollie and Wicks do that, too, before Dami tells him to keep his examples to himself, she doesn’t have time to tally the hopeless cases on his team.

“You were literally in his arms, snuggling him.. Every time we’ve watched tv together? And a decent amount of times we’ve Skyped, too?” 

Ransom isn’t allowed to give examples anymore, so he keeps the mental picture of Dex and Nursey to himself.

“You made pet names out of each other’s nicknames.. The guy’s called you Ransypoo in front of our entire extended family and you croon Holtzy more often than you use any more normal form of his actual damn name,” Dami continues, her tone all business.

“And the way he looks at you, my dear brother. When you’re not looking back. And when you are. The love in his eyes is pretty clear to see,” She continues, softer. Ransom’s heart is hammering against his rib cage and it feels like it’s put his entire skeleton on fire.

“The way he talks about you, all adoration and gushing and such deep comfort and trust with who you are, Justin..” Ransom pretends for a split second that he doesn’t believe her, that it’s just who they are. But he can see it, too. Maybe they crossed the line of best bros so long ago and so silently that neither of them even noticed.

“I’m not saying that you aren’t a catch yourself, bro, because you are. But.. I think what you have with Adam is special and might have the potential to become just the kind of special you want it to be,” She manages, before obnoxious bleeping drowns out the silence Ransom knows she was going to give him to process. 

“Go save some lives, my hero,” He says, before ending the call. 

He keeps stock of everything they do for each other that’s more boy- than best friend and he’s a little stunned. He knows Holster’s skin and eye care routine better than Holster does. Holster cleans and dries his clothes, even though they come with a lot tougher instructions (which he always obeys) than his own. Most mornings, Holster even carries Ransom’s bag over to Faber, while Ransom walks next to him, blinking himself awake slowly, shoulders and arms touching almost constantly. He’s kind of embarrassed by how much he talks about Holster, now that he’s started noticing, but nobody seems to mind and there’s little he’d rather talk about, so..

He decides, stubbornly, that he’s not going to confess. He’s not just going to come out and say it. He realised it with a push in the right direction and Holster’s always been the more emotionally intelligent one out of the both of them. He just needs a gentle nudge to fathom that yes, his best friend is bisexual and yes, his best friend is attracted to him and yes, that attraction comes with a much bigger dish of the fire that Holster’s set in his heart.

Talking about male crushes should do the trick, he figures and they spend enough of their time talking about sports as it is. 

He starts with Tater, because.. Damn. He’s taller than Ransom, too, which is a thing for him and a whole lot more muscled than him, which is a thing, too. Fiercely protective on the ice, a goofball of it, unsurprisingly a thing, too. All three are things the large Russian has in common with his American roommate. That Ransom’s heart and head have lasted this long without imploding is kind of impressive.

He comments on his swasomeness every chance he gets. Which is.. Quite a bit, because Bits tends to talk about the Falcs rather a lot and of course they watch all their games, because of Jack.  
Holster doesn’t react apart from a snigger, a mumbled agreement or a counterargument in favour of another player. 

It makes Ransom antsy. He decides to up the stakes. Unfortunately, talking about Sidney Crosby only results in jokes about Canada from Holster and he doesn’t dare talk about the Team North America members (even though he crushes on all of them), because they’re Holster’s age, they’re the guys he probably played with or against at some point in juniors. Guys that got drafted when he came here instead. Which is not a decision Ransom wants to point out to him, ever, because he might rethink it. 

He turns his arrows to Gabe Landeskog next, because you can’t get more Holster lookalike than that. Holster doesn’t seem to catch on, though, not even when Ransom’s drooling over a picture of Gabe in a tank top which Holster owns, too (“Sun’s out, guns out” it says and it’s in an awful yellow and blue, which Landeskog is allowed to buy, because he’s a Swede. Holster just didn’t notice it was a dreadful colour combination). He just.. Always changes the fucking subject after a quick assenting murmur. Ransom drops Landeskog soon enough, because he might be picture perfect, but he likes his own version much better. 

Ransom stops trying and starts trying to build up the courage to use his words. Sit him down somewhere nice, come out first, see if he does, too, lay all his cards (his heart) on the table, see what happens.

Liquid courage and happenstance beat him to it though. Probably for the better, because for all the fire in his heart, there’s not that much words he has for it he could actually manage to form in front of Holster when it all came to a head.

He’s had a few beers when he’s watching the Falcs play the Aces at the Haus. Holster’s cramming in their room with the promise to watch the group chat for the game’s development. He’s enjoying himself- it’s a tough game, but it makes for some good hockey. Jack does great, Tater does great and it’s a good final result.. Until Parse swoops in and fucks it all up in a matter of seconds. Tater’s on him before he can blink and he just hoists him up and from then, blinking’s all he can really do, because.. He’s.. So.. Strong. He voices those exact thoughts in the group chat, only half an eye on his phone as he discussed the game with his present team mates and waits for something from Holster.

Justin Oluransi: wait but did Alexei Mashkov for real pick up Parse though  
Justin Oluransi: who does that, incredible  
Justin Oluransi: he’s so strong lol  
Justin Oluransi: it’s like he dragged him out the scrum with one hand?? how much does parse weight 180? lololol

Something from Holster does come through. And it catches him an awful lot off guard.

Adam J Birkholtz: dear god justin

They don’t do first names. Dami was right there at least. He can’t really remember the last time he’s heard Holtz say it.. Except he does. When he’d almost been checked due to a rather late reaction to an opposing forward’s advancement, Holster had shouted at him to “Fucking look after yourself, dammit, Justin!” … Is he mad? Has he finally had it with Ransom’s unsubtle gay behaviour? Is he secretly more of a homophobe than Ransom’s ever been able to fathom and does he tack on a “no homo” after everything he does or says to Ransom that isn’t very straight behaviour? 

He’s struggling with his breathing. Tries to time his breaths to those around him, but they’ve all had a bit to drink and none of them are breathing regularly enough. Ransom puts his beer bottle down when his hand starts to shake and decides to head upstairs.

He’s having a bit of a hard time with the door knob when he hears Holster shout through the door at him.

“Dude, I’m seriously studying here! I don’t have time to talk about Mashkov right now!” And it doesn’t sound angry, as Ransom had expected. It sounded exasperated and a little forced, like he’s trying to hide how he really feels.. Which might be hurt?

The door knob works for him just then and he sort of ungracefully falls into the room along with the opening door. 

Holster’s sitting at the desk, brows scrunched together, a pencil rolling from the one corner of his mouth to the other. God, Ransom hates it when he does that.

“Dude, did you not hear me or are you blatantly disregard-..” He stops mid word when he looks up at Ransom.

The volume and annoyance disappear out of his voice as he approaches Ransom, still dumbly holding onto the door knob. Holster gently loosens his grip on it, closes the door and leads him to his own bunk.

“Hey, hey, what’s up?” He asks softly, running his fingers through Ransom’s hair the exact way he likes it best. Ransom spares a moment to marvel about how much easier he’s breathing already, before he notices Holster looking at him expectantly. Right, an answer to that question.

He tries to say that he’s fine, that he doesn’t know what was up either, but his brain-to-mouth connection seems to be malfunctioning, because that’s not what comes out.

“Are you mad at me for gushing about Tater?” stumbles from his lips instead. Lips he presses together tightly afterwards, because honestly, the treason.

Holster pulls his hand from Ransom’s hair and Ransom’s pretty proud he doesn’t whine at the loss of contact and comfort. Holster starts raking it through his own hair instead. Tugs slightly.

“I.. No, of course not,” Holster says, but he’s not looking at Ransom and now it’s Ransom’s turn to be exasperated.

He cocks his head and levels Holster with the most unimpressed look he can muster, quirking an eyebrow in question.

Holster pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, even though they slide back a second later and tugs at his hair again, before he starts talking.

“I’m not mad, because you like Tater. I’m just.. Jealous. Because I’m strong, too. Hell, I could pick up Parse one handed, too, definitely if he came after Chowder.. And, like, I get that I’m not.. I’m not a fabulous NHL player and whatnot, but like.. If you crush on Gabe Landeskog of all people, why not crush on your very own, watered down, easily accessible Adam Birkholtz?” And to Ransom’s horror, there are tears glistening in his eyes. He notes that it gives for another breathtaking shade of Holster he hadn’t seen yet, before he’s pulling Holster in.

“I am, dude,” He whispers into his ear. “I’m crushing on you so bad, you have no idea,” He continues and a short laugh escapes Holster, shaking them both. A little sob follows and Ransom pulls back worriedly.

“Are you serious?” Holster asks, furiously wiping at his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, dude, have been since I first met you. Didn’t think you’d ever feel the same, but then Dami told me you do and I thought.. Let me just.. Unsubtly hint at my bisexuality and everything will unfold from there?” He hadn’t realised how lame a story it is, until he’s telling it to Holster himself. The alcohol in his system and the roar of the fire in answer to Holster’s brilliant smile make it all seem better though.

Holster, whose eyes are still shining with unshed tears, but who’s laughing openly now, puts a hand on his cheek. He leans into the touch.

“I can’t believe you.. I was so fucking jealous, dude,” He chokes out, before pulling Ransom in with a hand on the back of his neck. 

It’s a little sloppy, because Ransom’s drunker than he realised (the crazy thought process that landed him upstairs and at the verge of an anxiety attack and the texts that started it in the first place might have hinted at that, but..) and Holster can’t stop smiling. 

Ransom pulls back, presses a firm kiss to Holster’s cheek. 

“I’m going to wine and dine you tomorrow night,” He promises, before curling up around Holster, who laughs and pushes him away, but lets him curl back after he’s retrieved his text books.

-

He does, in fact, wine and dine Holster the next night. They FaceTime Dami when they’re all suited up to go (Holster’s baby blue shirt makes him want to keep him here, but he wants to do to his properly) and she laughs until she’s crying, but then wishes them a lot of fun and a lot of luck. 

He helps Holster navigate the French menu of the place he picked and holds open doors and pulls out chairs. The deep, deep blush and shy smile Holster responds with every time are worth a thousand times those efforts.

It’s even better than he’d ever dreamed it to be. He can now not only hook his ankle around Holster’s, but play footsie with him in earnest. He can hold his hand and rub his thumb over his knuckles. He can compliment his eyes and his shirt and get a kiss on the cheek for his effort. He can look and he can touch. He can’t believe how lucky he is, he catches himself thinking more than once. 

Conversation flows just as easily as always, stories previously hidden bubbling up to the surface. How scared Holster was Ransom wasn’t going to like him at first. Ransom’s full conversation with Dami. Both of their bisexual revelations (Holster decides he wants to meet this Tom and Ransom’s heart skips a beat, before Holster tells him he wants to thank him personally), coming out, biphobia.

Ransom keeps biting his tongue to tell Holster he loves him, because it’s charged with a different meaning now and he wants to keep it, wants to save it for a special moment. Keeps tucking his hands under his thighs or busying them with food and drink to stop them from reaching out and touching with the intention of not stopping until every inch of skin is explored. 

When they arrive at the Haus, Holster smiles at him, all genuine happiness and fondness and Ransom pulls him in by both his hands, which were folded around his own. Cups his best friend’s jaw and makes up for the sloppy first one of the night before.

**Author's Note:**

> a) I couldn't not write fic about that extra, I'm sorry: this is written at night and it's unrevised and unbeta'ed 
> 
> b) still got two very, very long Holsom fics and one Nurseydex fic in the works
> 
> c) Yes, background Nurseydex, can you tell I can't live without either of these pairings?
> 
> d) Let me know if you liked it! Thanks for reading!!
> 
> e) Have a nice day!
> 
> f) wwwinteriscoming on tumblr, too
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All characters and universe belong to Ngozi U., creator of the webcomic Check, Please! (omgcheckplease.tumblr.com)


End file.
